


I don't know what's happening (but I know you)

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: "What's in front of you", Daisy and Phil: Parent Edition, Day 2, F/M, Fake Marriage, Kid Fic, Original infant character - Freeform, Skoulson Romfest 2k16, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort offf, Trope central, fairytale, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 22:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5760475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As weird as it was, if Daisy was going to be stuck in a bizarro universe, married to anyone, there were way worse options than Phil Coulson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> Skoulson Fest 2k16 Day 2: "What's in front of you," fairy tale

Wakefulness hit Daisy like a train, and she shot upright.

_Where?_

She was in bed. _A_ bed, one she didn’t recognize. _The hell?_ She looked around the room briefly, noticing that it was definitely too nice to be in the Playground. Glancing out the window, she realized it was definitely a _house_ , not a hotel. It was clean, but lived-in. _Safe house?_ She wondered, wracking her brain for SHIELD safe houses she could be in.

_What the hell happened?_

Concentrating on what she could remember, Daisy began to piece together where she had last been. _Mack gave us the assignment. We were on the quinjet._ She winced, details coming in before she could interpret them. _We were walking through a house,_  she remembered, but it didn’t look like the one she was in. It was older, darker. Daisy started to feel slightly nauseous. Something, or someone, had knocked her out. Was this _their_ house? Had they taken her to a different location?

_Coulson._

Coulson had been in the house with her. Was he here as well?

It was a nice place, not exactly what you would call menacing, but it was quiet, and she wasn’t sure why that made her so uncomfortable. Her eyes widened as she tried to get a better sense of her surroundings.

_Nothing is moving._

Nothing was _vibrating_ . A cold sweat formed on her skin. Her powers weren’t working, that’s why everything seemed so oddly quiet. _Something must have disabled them_. This was the most silence she’d heard-- _felt--_ in ages.

 _Except_...it wasn’t totally silent. The usual buzzing, one that had become a comforting hum around her had vanished, but she began to pick up on other noises. There were regular “settling” noises, not uncommon, but somewhere in the house, she could hear distinct movements. _Another person_.

Looking around for a weapon--not dwelling on the fact that she was in someone else’s clothes, not her field suit-- Daisy steeled herself for a fight. Just because she had begun to use her powers more didn’t mean she was exactly a slouch in the hand-to-hand combat department.

Creeping down the hall, Daisy noted that she was on the second floor of the home, which seemed fairly small. Getting closer to the stairs, she sniffed the air. Someone was _cooking_.

_Seriously what the hell._

Being careful not to make a sound, Daisy moved down the stairs slowly, in the direction of what must have been the kitchen. _Here we go_ , she thought finally, before taking a quick peek around the corner.

She let out a gigantic breath, and allowed her muscles to relax from their tensed up state

“Coulson,” Daisy said, coming around the corner. They _were_ in a safe house. Coulson turned around from his spot at the stove, giving her a funny look.

“ _Johnson_ ,” he greeted her, before turning back to his task.

Said task appeared to be pancakes, and the rumbling in Daisy’s stomach approved.

“What’s going on?” Daisy asked him as she walked closer, pausing in front of a refrigerator. Was it too much to hope they were stocked with orange juice? “Where--” Daisy froze.

“You’re the first one up, shockingly enough,” he replied, his back still turned. Daisy said nothing, staring at the photo on the refrigerator. She slowly turned around, taking in the rest of the room. It wasn’t a safe house, it was a _home._

_My home._

_Our-- holy shit._

Closing her eyes tightly, Daisy tried to wake up. If you were having a coma dream, you would know, right? In the movies, they always figured it out, because something was super weird and unrealistic.

Like the wedding photo on the refrigerator.

Was some kind of guide going to appear, shaped like Mack or May or Simmons, telling her she was asleep and needed to wake up?

Daisy tried to reach out with her powers again, get a sense of what was going on around her, but they still wouldn’t work. They weren’t dampened, she realized, they just _didn’t exist_. 

“I’m glad you’re up though, we have some good news,” Coulson called over. Daisy wondered if he was going to turn around and have a dog face or something, or the pancakes were going to be frisbees, or Captain America shields or something else weird and trippy to clue her in that this wasn’t real. But as she stepped closer it was just Coulson. Coulson, in sweatpants, flipping what appeared to be blueberry pancakes.

Wearing a wedding band.

On his intact, _human_ left hand.

She supposed that was trippy enough.

“Yeah?” Daisy asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as she felt. Seriously, what was going on? Was she dead? How did she get here again?

In the other house, they opened a door, she recalled. There was a bright flash.

_Helpful, not like that could be 80 billion different things. Think…_

They were on a mission. _Tracking down an Inhuman!_ Relieved something useful was finally coming back to her, Daisy sat down at the kitchen table that was covered in mail, assorted writing utensils and a closed laptop. Ignoring how _normal_ that felt, she pressed her forehead to her hands and tried to remember.

They were following a signal Simmons had been able to track, some kind of disturbance.

 _‘In the space-time continuum!’_ Simmons had said breathlessly, watching the confusing animation on the screen. Daisy and Mack had looked at her nervously.

 _‘Like time travel?’_ Mack asked her, not sounding super thrilled.

‘ _A bit, maybe,’_ had been Simmons’s response. What did that mean?

 _Am I in the future?_ Daisy looked over at Coulson, then at her own hands. She needed a mirror to check, but she didn’t think either of them looked much older. Her own wedding band caught her eye, and Daisy looked away quickly.

 _Don’t freak out, don’t freak out._ She jumped as a plate was slid in front of her. Blueberry pancakes.

“Coffee?” Coulson asked, and she just nodded, staring at the pancakes.

They looked real. They _smelled_ real.

 _If we’re in the future, where are my powers?_ Coulson returned, placing a mug of coffee--just the way she liked it-- and a cellphone in front of her.

“Surprise,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if he meant the coffee, phone, or the fact that he followed it by leaning down and kissing her on the top of the head before walking back to the stove.

Did he buy her a phone? Not to be ungrateful, but it was kind of battered for a present. Maybe that’s what Bizarro Coulson did in this world. Give Bizarro Daisy weird gifts. Picking up the phone she realized it was opened to a voicemail. She pressed play.

 _“Hi Phil, this is Margaret from DCF. Great news, we have an opportunity for an immediate placement if you two are up for it--”_ The woman’s chipper voice went on, but Daisy already heard enough. She turned around in her chair to see Coulson, who was watching her with a big nervous smile on his face.

“I called her back yesterday when you were at work for more details, but you got back late, so,” he gestured to the phone. “I know it’s quicker than we thought it would be, but we figured we would get back on the list when Liddy was old enough, and the working from home thing is going well…” He trailed off, probably because of whatever face she was making.

To be fair, Daisy wasn’t sure what face she was making, because everything from her fingertips upward was completely numb. She had so many questions. They were fostering a kid? Had they done it before? What was going on, really? After turning around quickly to flip the pancakes currently cooking, Coulson looked over at Daisy, concerned.

“Is everything okay?”

 _Sure. You and I are married and taking in a foster kid and you’re making me breakfast and I have no idea what is happening. Everything is fine._  

“Yeah, yeah,” she said quickly, not liking the look on this Coulson’s face. She was probably freaking him out, and whether he was a figment of her imagination or not, this was a huge part of his possibly imaginary life. “That’s--incredible,” she said, trying to convey the right amount of enthusiasm for such an announcement. “I just can’t believe--” _Any of this._

“Yeah,” he replied, looking unmistakably relieved. “We’ll have to do some shopping, and talk to May about you taking some time off, just in the beginning so we can both be home and get things settled,” he said, and she could see the list forming in his head. It was bizarre. This was Phil Coulson, preparing to be a dad. He was all jumpy and excited, his hands wouldn’t stop moving; how could all of that be an illusion? She felt a surge of affection for this Coulson, who, apart from all the other stuff, was clearly very similar to her own.

 _Just...happier._ More relaxed, certainly.

If only she knew what was going on, she could maybe relax too.

There was an odd moment, then, where everything was kind of quiet and she was wondering if she was meant to say something else. Coulson was looking at her kind of strangely, all intense and-- _oh._

She knew that face. Maybe not on him, not exactly, but with that face and the suddenly charged atmosphere, Daisy was pretty sure what would “normally” be happening right now. Unsure of what to do, she just kind of stared back, not moving from her seat.

Daisy was saved from having to explain when a noise jolted them out of the moment. She was saved, until she realized what it was. Then she was confused. And mildly panicked.

From a little white radio on the counter, a baby started fussing. Loudly.

Coulson got this little resigned smile on his face, then looked back at the stove. “Can you?” He asked, gesturing in front of him. “I’m…”

Daisy stared. At him. Then the radio. Then him. Then back at the radio. “Uh, yeah, yeah of course,” she said, apparently unnecessarily as he had turned back to the pan. “Do you want me to…?”

 _To do what? What do I do? Oh god, do I have to_ feed _it?_ She glanced down, feeling like the best option might just be sneaking out a window and figuring out what happened some other way. _Waking up would be really great about now._

“Nah, I just need to finish these and I’ll put her breakfast together,” Coulson said, gesturing with the spatula. “I’d hurry though, she figures out we’re eating without her and she’ll be a grouch all day.”

Daisy coughed out a pathetic laugh and walked toward the stairs. “Right,” she called. “Yeah.” At the bottom of the stairs, she paused. _It’s upstairs, right?_ She imagined the look on Coulson’s face if she went in the complete wrong direction. Which was funny, but also concerning. Assuming he was still a spy in this dream/universe/involuntary trip, there’s no way he wasn’t noticing some odd behavior. Luckily, an extra loud yell from the _freaking baby_ clued Daisy in to its location, and she hurried up the stairs. Walking into a room she had bypassed completely on her way down to possibly attack her imagined kidnapper(s), Daisy’s ears began to ring.

“Yup, that’s a baby alright,” she muttered, stepping closer. Said baby was standing up, grasping the bar of her crib. “Hey there,” Daisy said, waving awkwardly. Surprisingly, the baby stopped crying almost immediately, replacing it with a smile when she saw her. _What a faker._ “You’re happy to see me, huh?” The baby-- _Libby? No, ‘Liddy,’_ she thought Coulson had said earlier, assuming he was talking about the baby, and they didn’t also have a dog hiding out somewhere--made some noises, then gave the universal grabby hands “up” signal.

Daisy sighed. “Okay, let’s see,” she murmured, reaching under the baby’s armpits carefully, then awkwardly pulling her closer. “This is right, right?” She looped one arm under the baby’s butt (thankfully, blessedly dry as far as she could tell) and the other around her back, holding her close to her shoulder. She knew you were supposed to support their necks, but this one seemed to be capable of that on her own, looking around confused.

“You totally know something’s up, don’t you?” Maybe it was a body language thing, or babies had some weird Mom Sense, but unless this was how she was all the time, it seemed to Daisy like Liddy was...uncomfortable, with the person holding her. Probably because said person had _no idea what she was doing._ Casting an eye toward the door, Daisy pulled the baby far enough away to look her in the eye. “Look, I know this is probably super weird,” she whispered, trying to catch the baby’s wandering attention. “But let’s just pretend I’m like, your mom’s twin, and she’ll be back, but for now you’re going to have to deal with me. So. I’m sorry.”

 _You have no idea what I’m saying,_ Daisy thought dismally, at least happy that she wasn’t giving off enough of a stranger danger vibe to really freak her out. “Let’s go see Coul--oh boy,” she groaned, heading to the door. “Let’s go see-- _Daddy_ ,” she tested out, pausing to watch for the baby’s reaction. It was like she had just asked a puppy if it wanted to go outside -- _probably a terrible analogy._ But the dense, doughy little human in her arms basically lost her shit with excitement. _Hopefully not literally_.

Craning her neck back to take a second, more critical look, Daisy shrugged. “Okay, we made a cute kid,” she admitted, patting the baby on the back. Shaking her head at _that_ weirdness she walked down the hall, hoping that this version of Daisy always took a full minute to _carefully_ carry her child down the stairs.

Daisy suspected she did not.

***

Once she brought the baby downstairs, it became fairly clear what all the fuss was about when she mentioned seeing Coulson. Daisy swore she watched the two of them for 20 minutes at the table; him giving her blueberries and Cheerios and making exaggerated little celebratory or surprised noises every time she did...something. Seriously, the kid did not have to work hard for attention.

It was fascinating, seeing her ‘boss’ in this position. Silly, having fun, being...okay, she would say it: cute. It was all cute, he was cute as hell, the kid was cute, everything. It was only when she reeled herself back in and acknowledged that, wherever they were, it was also _her_ kid, things got strange. The two of them had sex, presumably more than once at this point. She wasn’t saying that was impossible with Coulson, because he was a good looking man she obviously loved and trusted, but waking up and BAM married with a kid? It was jarring.

Also, she couldn’t help but be suspicious that all of it wasn’t some kind of illusion. Was someone watching her? If it was the Inhuman that they encountered, could he or she see her? _Helloooo. If someone is listening I'd like to come back now._  

Was Coulson, who was standing right behind her as the door opened, having his own experience?

And where was _this_ Daisy, the one whose life--and body--she was currently inhabiting? Did she actually exist? All of it was enough to make her head spin. _What if I just tell him?_ She thought, many times. Would that mess everything up, or fix it? _Or will he think I’ve lost my mind?_

Daisy was startled out of her train of thought by a small tap on her nose. Judging from the laughing baby, the too-innocent-looking grown man pointing at the laughing baby and the blueberry rolling on the table in front of her, she had a decent idea of what had happened.

“Wasn’t me,” Coulson said, before dropping the act and frowning in concern. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Daisy said, waving it away. But really, she wasn’t. She felt all cold and clammy again, and the constant undercurrent of panic that _this was actually happening and she had no idea how to stop it_ was starting to become more prominent every moment. “Actually,” she began, pressing her forehead into her palm and squeezing her eyes shut. It was just too much.

“Hey, hey,” Coulson said, and she could feel him move over to her side. Gently removing her hand from her face, he looked her over. “You’re white as a ghost,” he observed, watching her with a look she was actually very familiar with.

“I may need to lie down,” Daisy admitted, leaning into Coulson’s hand on her cheek. As weird as it was, if she was going to be stuck in a bizarro universe, married to anyone, there were way worse options than Phil Coulson.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, lightly touching the back of his other hand to her forehead. “You had a rough week, and got some, well, big news.” Coulson let out a deep breath, pushing her bangs back from her forehead.

 _I have bangs again,_ Daisy observed, slightly detached. That was kind of nice, she supposed.

“Sorry I kind of sprung that on you,” Coulson said, sounding guilty.

“No, don’t be, that’s--” _That’s not even the half of it buddy._ “That’s not--it’s been a long week,” she agreed instead, and he seemed okay to let that answer slide.

“Do you want me to--” He gestured toward the stairs, and part of her wondered if he was actually volunteering to carry his wife to her room because that would be kind of insane and adorable.

“No I’m fine,” she answered, standing up slowly. Looking over at the baby, who had been remarkably quiet all this time, Daisy frowned. “Are you okay with, you know, taking the reins?” She winced, both at the metaphor (she _needed_ to stop comparing their child to animals,) and the subtle implication he needed help taking care of his own kid. From her, of all people.

“Don’t worry about that,” he reassured her, “we’ll find a way to entertain ourselves,” he said, shifting into what she had dubbed Baby Voice. “Won’t we, Miss Melinda?”

_Yup, I need to lie down._

***

And she did lie down, periodically shutting, then opening her eyes until she realized that she wasn’t suddenly going to wake up as herself again. _Might as well get to work_. Seeing a laptop on what appeared to be ‘her’ side of the bed, Daisy pulled the computer in her lap and did what she did best: hack into private, encrypted files.

It took her a few minutes of her trying out a few of her best tricks, the sounds of Coulson and the baby in the background, before she recognized the encryption she had been struggling with as a variation on one of her own.

 _Good to know I’ve still got it._ It seemed like no matter what world she was in, Daisy wasn’t going to make it easy to get information on her _or_ her family. _Even if the person breaking in is myself._ But it was _her_ knowledge as well, maybe with a few subtle variations, so before long Daisy had opened her and Coulson’s personnel files.

This Daisy was 30, which explained the slight differences she’d noticed once she’d gotten a glimpse in the mirror, and could feel when she focused on them. Or maybe that was just the parenting bit. Shaking her head, Daisy dove into her past, or at least what she could find. Even when it was secure, information on her counterpart was scarce. _Atta girl._

 _‘Initially joined SHIELD as a consultant,’...a year after Me-Daisy joined. ‘First encountered on a mission in Austria,’ how the hell did I end up in Austria? ‘Attained agent status a year after that, trained under Agent Melinda May,’ blah blah blah…_ Apart from the whole Austrian thing and the slightly disjointed timeline, it didn’t seem that different. Maybe Coulson had more details in his file? She scrolled further down, to the next section.

_‘Family.’_

Daisy took a deep breath in through her nose. Did her parents have a different fate in this world? She was referred to in every instance she could find by her birth name, so that had to mean something.

_‘Parents: deceased.’_

“Well, that could mean anything,” Daisy muttered to herself, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of inexplicable guilt that was blooming in her gut. Not finding much else--she _wasn’t_ on the Index, it seemed--she moved on to the rest of her family.

Just as Coulson had said that morning--probably wondering at her formality-- her last name was in fact Johnson. And so was Liddy’s. “Huh,” Daisy said, somewhat surprised. Catching the baby’s middle name, she smiled.Liddy was a little over a year old, according to Daisy’s file, and Daisy and Phil had been married for almost three years.

_Whaaaa?_

Of the paperwork she could find, there were copies of their marriage license, as well as a dense, lengthy document on SHIELD’s anti-nepotism policy that made her eyes practically cross. Long story short, there was no ‘Director Coulson’ in this universe. Switching over to Phil’s file, Daisy’s eyes widened as the first date caught her eye. _‘Terminated employment: 5/14/2012.’_

It didn’t take long to recognize that fateful day, and Daisy was finally figuring out where things went in a different direction. _He left SHIELD after they brought him back._ Scanning the rest of the page, she found out that his contract was reinstated the same week she joined up. “That’s interesting,” she said to herself, looking through the rest of his file. As she suspected, they both reported to Deputy Director of SHIELD, Melinda May, while Nick Fury was MIA.

 _I’m guessing HYDRA was still a thing here?_ She supposed, doing a quick Google search and finding her suspicions to be correct.

So that was it? They met a little bit later, and ended up getting married?

 _Didn’t take much, huh?_ Looking at the clock at the bottom of her screen, Daisy saw she had been at it for almost two hours. She groaned, stretching her arms above her head. _Crazy how time flies when you’re learning about your double life._ She continued switching between the files, finding what she could about their current situation. Coulson worked from home doing research and planning, occasionally going on base to run back end on missions he constructed. She was at the Playground four days a week, but on call as a field agent just about every day. Her partner was Mack, of course. Clearly they made a great team with or without her Inhuman abilities. Beginning to wonder what Mack and the others were up to in this universe--since it did, in fact, seem to be its own, fully formed universe--Daisy’s fingers danced lightly over the keys. _Should I…?_

“Hard at work?” Coulson asked from the doorway, eyeing her laptop with a raised eyebrow. Daisy swiftly shut it, affixing a properly guilty look on her face.

“You know me,” she said, trying not to hear the irony in the words.

“Hmm,” Coulson hummed, walking over to the bed.

“Is she asleep?” Daisy asked, hoping she didn’t sound as awkward or nervous as she felt. ‘ _Is the baby asleep? Our baby? The one we apparently made together?’_ Instead of answering, Coulson flopped facedown on the bed, his head up by her hip. She laughed, surprised to see him act so...goofy. _Yeah, I just listened to him play peekaboo and ‘got your nose’ for an hour but now he’s being goofy._

“Nap time,” he replied, his voice muffled by the comforter. Daisy snorted.

“For her or for you?”

Whatever he said was unintelligible, so Daisy just watched him snuggle deeper into the comforter. The fact that he looked so relaxed and cozy made her own stiffness that much more obvious. Just chilling in bed with AC, no big deal, right? She thought back to that awkward moment in the kitchen that morning. Were they usually affectionate? One of those lovey dovey couples who have to kiss every time one of them leaves the room? She grimaced. That didn’t seem right.

But _maybe_ a little ‘thanks for breakfast’ peck was expected, or some celebratory physical contact for the great news they had just gotten. They were fostering a kid together, maybe even adopting eventually. What would Other Daisy do?

She looked over Coulson as he laid there quietly. Tentatively, Daisy reached a hand out, gently combing it through the hair on the back of his head. That was probably normal, right? If his sigh was any indication it probably was, and whatever that fluttery feeling in her gut was. Other Daisy approved.

After a bit, Coulson tilted his head until he was looking up at her. “Are you feeling better?” He asked, and Daisy nodded.

“Yeah, it was just--”

“A lot,” Coulson finished, sitting up slightly. To Daisy’s surprise, he scooted over until he could rest his head on her lap.

_Totally normal._

“Yeah,” she agreed, waiting until he settled down with his face against her stomach before moving her hand back to his hair. “It’s just...this is real,” Daisy realized, finally letting it click. This wasn’t a fever dream, unless her dreams were crazy detailed. Those files, Coulson’s behavior, his memories. The kid. They were all _real_. Somehow.

“I know,” Coulson said, obviously awake but his eyes had closed again. “It seems quick, but we were so close to finalizing it when the baby threw us for a loop,” he admitted, and Daisy’s eyebrows shot up.

 _So little Melinda was a surprise,_ she thought. _Huh_. It looked like this Daisy and Coulson were complacent with their little married situation. Got a little sloppy.

_Thank god you are not actually that child’s mother._

“I’m glad we’re doing it,” she said, knowing it to be true regardless of which Daisy she was being. She always had that dream, that if her life ever did settle down, she would be able to help another kid in the system, give them a home. Of course, that was assuming her life would ever settle down so she could provide such a home. Apparently in this...timeline or whatever, she could.

Her and Coulson.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t _that_ weird to think about, the two of them. After all, he was the most important person in her life. Maybe if they met under slightly different circumstances, like these two seemed to, things would have worked out like this. Hell, maybe if things calmed down, and they had time to actually talk anymore, they could work out like this eventually. _If._

“You know what this means though, right?” Coulson asked, his voice sending little vibrations against her belly. In that moment, she _really_ missed her powers.

“What?” She responded, settling back against the headboard. It was one of those plush ones with the buttons; one of them _really_ knew how to pick a nice bed. Coulson-- _Phil._ She should probably get used to saying that, right?-- wrapped his arms around her waist. Dude was a _cuddler._

“We have to clean the house.”

Daisy groaned. Stranded in an alternate dimension, having to keep up the married-with-a-kid act, _and_ she had to clean?

She had to find a way back.

***

When she took herself out of it, Daisy found that being married to Phil was not unlike working for/being friends with Coulson. He was still the same guy, if a bit less guarded. And okay, she supposed sometimes they had acted kind of married. How was she supposed to know? She didn’t know what married people did!

But once he was convinced she’d had enough rest, they had begun cleaning the house in preparation for their new family member’s arrival the following week. She was a girl, aged eight, so they agreed it would be good to splurge on things that would last to become hand-me-downs for Liddy.

 _Look at me, making all these decisions,_ Daisy thought, feeling incredibly proud of the way she suggested they _invest_ in the furniture and clothing they bought. (Okay, maybe not what most adults were talking about when they mentioned _investments,_ and yeah, her extensive knowledge of what made quality hand-me-downs probably came from her own experience as a foster kid rather than some sudden development in maturity, but she would take it.)

Taking turns cleaning parts of the house and hanging out with the baby/putting together shopping lists, they worked the rest of the day away.

It was almost enough to make Daisy forget she was somehow trapped in someone else’s life. Almost.

Once Phil carted the baby off to bed, Daisy settled down with the weird-yet-relaxing chore of folding a fresh load of baby laundry. _Everything is so teeny_ , she marveled, kind of impressed that they didn’t dress their baby in mini suits, or tiny combat boots like she herself might be tempted to do. From the world weary sigh at the entryway, she could tell Coulson had just entered the sitting room.

“I don’t know if I’ve said this before,” Daisy said honestly, “but teeny-tiny socks might just be the cutest thing ever.” She felt the couch dip next to her, just as she picked up a hooded bath towel that looked like a duck. “Oh _come on,_ ” she groaned, “that’s just unfair.”

The arm around her shoulders didn’t faze Daisy at all, but the feeling of warm breath ghosting over her neck--and the lips that followed--made her jump.

“Surprise.” Coulson chuckled under her jaw, and Daisy let out a laugh that was just a little too loud. She turned her head to face him--to do what? Ask him about the weather?--but her move was interpreted as an invitation and she found herself with a face full of Coulson’s face. He was kissing her. Like a lot. _A lo_ t a lot.

 _I guess that answers my question about them being ‘affectionate,’_ she thought vaguely. Not for the first time, Daisy was wondering if some part of the Daisy she had replaced was still there in the body she was currently inhabiting, because she was feeling what she had dubbed earlier in the day as “Phil Butterflies.” (Not the most creative, name, she knew.) Occasionally, when this Coulson did something particularly cute, _or hot,_ she supposed, as she felt his hand comb through her hair and mess up her ponytail a bit, she felt...excited. Not something totally alien, but new to her when it came to Coulson.

At least to this degree.

Leaning back on the couch she chased the feeling, pulling him in closer and shifting backward to wrap her legs around his waist as he followed her.

 _This is wrong,_ a little voice in her head whispered, but how could that be when it felt so natural, and easy? Sighing against his lips, Daisy arched up against him, eliciting a groan. Sure, he had surprised her at first, but this Coulson was a really great kisser. Daisy wondered if her Coulson also did that thing with his teeth--

“Wait, wait, wait,” Daisy gasped, turning her head away. This was not _her_ Coulson, not that the other one was hers anyway. But this was someone else’s husband, and even it was technically a version of herself, she was not this guy’s wife. She couldn’t let him hook up with a stranger without even knowing it.

Basically, the whole situation was beyond messed up.

“Yeah, okay,” Phil breathed, resting his face in the junction between her neck and shoulder. “Everything alright?”

 _Nope, not alright._ She eased her legs down on the couch, and Phil pushed himself back up so he could look her in the eye. Resisting the overwhelming urge she had to pull him back down, Daisy rested a hand on the side of his face, and Phil leaned into it, smiling at her. _Dammit, Daisy._

“Yeah, fine,” she said, noncommittal. Phil raised an eyebrow, and besides causing her butterflies to go into overdrive again, it made Daisy want to be honest with him.

Well, as honest as she could be.

“Sorry, I just-- tonight’s not the best night,” she told him, and Coulson nodded, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead before sitting upright. Despite her relief at having successfully navigated _that_ situation, Daisy missed feeling his weight on her. She took a deep, shaky breath before she sat up as well.

“Sorry about that,” Phil said apologetically, gesturing to the messy pile of once-folded baby clothes Daisy had accidentally laid down on in the heat of the moment.

“God you’re a nuisance,” she said flatly, and he laughed, reaching past her to grab a handful of items to re-fold. _That’s it?_ She hadn’t exactly expected him to put up a stink about it, not if he was anything like regular Coulson, but the ease with which they had moved from hot and heavy to _folding laundry_ was kind of startling. Looking over she saw him hesitating, turning a pair of tiny yellow socks over in his hands. “They’re cute, right?”

“ _So_ cute,” he said, shaking his head like even after a year it still baffled him that such a thing was possible.  


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the second day, Daisy comes clean.

Daisy learned a few things about Coulson over the course of the next day. He was a cuddler, which, knowing sex had been taken off the table, was actually pretty pleasant. He didn’t smother her or anything, and their close quarters meant no battle for the covers. He hummed, a lot, which she couldn’t recall her Coulson ever doing. To be fair, she never really saw her Coulson cooking or showering. Just to be clear, she didn’t _see_ that. But apparently he also left the door open, so not her fault.

What it basically all boiled down to was what Coulson acted like when he was at ease. She thought back to those early times on the Bus, before everything went to shit. It was kind of like that, except without the traitor in their midst and the pressure to basically save the world.

As planned, Sunday was a shopping day, so he spent most of it buying clothes and bedding for the new girl’s room and groceries for the week. Daisy stayed home with the baby, which was _incredibly_ stressful. She was cute, sure, but the second she started crying it was like sirens were going off all over the house.

“How is something so tiny _so loud?!_ ” Daisy asked, patting Liddy on the back and looking around frantically for a way to soothe her. There were two solutions, she found: food, and a particularly worn stuffed animal Daisy found crammed in between the couch cushions.

By the time Phil came home Daisy felt like she could kiss him, but realized that could lead to all sorts of problems she wanted to avoid, so she ducked him and went for the hug instead.

“Nice to see you too,” Phil said strangely, before looking over to the baby who was of course as calm and pleasant as could be. “Have you been giving your mother a hard time?”

Daisy pulled back, clearing her throat. “I just--” Coulson was looking at her and she felt _it_ again, like she was missing something. “Let me get those,” she said instead, grabbing some grocery bags from his hands. “Is there more in the car?” She asked, walking over to the kitchen.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Coulson said, running a hand through his hair before walking back out the door.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of checking off lists and entertaining/caring for Liddy (Daisy changed her diaper. It was...not as horrific as it could have been) and before she knew it, it was time to put Liddy to bed.

As Daisy walked down the hall, she was intercepted by Phil, who was exiting Liddy's room. “So, our baby appears to be on speed,” he said casually, and Daisy peered over his shoulder. Liddy was standing in her crib, hair sticking up in different directions and eyes as wide awake as physically possible. “I think it’s one of _those night_ s,” he said, shrugging.

Daisy stared at him in confusion. _Am I supposed to give her Benedryl or something?_

Grabbing her gently by the shoulders, Phil looked her in the eye. “Time for one of Mommy’s long, drawn out bedtime stories,” he explained.

“Hey,” she said, frowning. She was pretty sure that wasn’t a compliment.

“Sorry, you know they’re the only thing that will get her down,” he said apologetically, kissing her on the forehead. “Embrace it.” Releasing her, he walked down the stairs.

“My stories aren’t drawn out,” Daisy muttered, assuming Other Daisy would be offended as well. She walked into the room, smirking at the clearly energized baby watching her every move.

“Okay, story. So once upon a time…” Daisy began, settling into the rocking chair. “There was this...princess. Named...Skye.” From her crib, Liddy stared curiously, placing her fist in her mouth, which Daisy took as a good sign. “Princess Skye lived in a big purple...castle, that was, yeah, kind of crummy, but it was _hers_ and it was just fine, she didn’t need some fancy new castle, okay?”

Liddy blinked.

Daisy sighed. _Where am I going with this? ‘Okay honey, this is how your father and I met in another dimension._ ’ What could she say? It was the most fantastical story she knew.

“So one day a handsome prince shows up at her va--castle, and brings along this _total_ turd, but to be fair he didn’t know at the time. Anyway, there’s a misunderstanding, and the two of them kidnap the princess.”

Surprisingly, Daisy found herself getting into it, weaving a long tale about Princess Skye, Prince Phillip, and their various dealings with evil. About five minutes in, she realized that maybe she got a little _too_ into it.

“Then Princess Skye realized she was _actually_ Queen Daisy of...Aaaa-Asgard,” she corrected, since ‘Afterlife’ might be too scary for a one-year old. It was her story, she could be Asgardian if she wanted to be. Liddy had laid down, so Daisy walked over to stand next to the crib to see if she was still even awake. She was, of course, so Daisy leaned her elbows on the edge of the crib and continued. “So then Queen Daisy went back into the underground castle, _waved her hands_ and _threw_ the bad guys across the room to save Prince Philip,” she said, animated, before her eyes landed on Liddy’s confused face.

“Oh. Wait. I forgot to explain that part. Queen Daisy has these awesome secret superpowers. See, everything in the world vibrates, and she can--” The baby blinked slowly, either from boredom, confusion, or fatigue. Daisy wasn’t sure, but either way she thought she should probably wrap it up soon. “She can move things with her brain. _Anyway,_ she gets rid of the bad guys, saves Prince Phillip _again_ , then they go back to _his_ underground castle--I know, everyone has an underground castle, it’s weird-- and live happily ever after with all their friends. The end!”

Liddy sucked on her pacifier slowly, letting her eyes droop shut. “Am I boring you?” Daisy whispered, gently poking at a little wisp of hair that was sticking straight up on top of the baby’s head. Laughing to herself, she turned around and nearly jumped out of her socks. “Hey,” she said, placing a hand on her chest. “Sneaky much?”

In the doorway, Coulson smiled, but she didn’t need to know him as well as she did to know it was strained.

“Can we talk?”

***

“So that was quite a story,” Phil began across the table, and Daisy couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of deja vu. The kitchen was dim, apart from the overhead lamp, and it felt so much like an interrogation she almost laughed. Almost.

“Well, I thought it would be good to encourage a healthy imagination, considering what she’s probably going to grow up with.” She said lightly, tapping her fingers on the table. Maybe they were just having a friendly evening chat in the kitchen. Maybe that was something they just did, like let their feet touch when they worked on the couch or wordlessly take shifts checking on the baby. Maybe she was getting nervous for no reason.

Except, she was pretty sure she had a reason.

“The evil knight was interesting,” Phil said as he leaned back a bit, but held her eye contact. “What was his name again?”

“Sir Frownsalot?” Daisy asked, wondering why, of all details, he picked up on that one. It wasn’t as if Ward--

 _Shit_.

He never mentioned what happened to Grant Ward in this world.

Their _files_ never mentioned what happened to Grant Ward in this world.

Coulson seemed to pick up on the shifting mood. “He sounds an awful lot like a SHIELD agent who went MIA, before I met you,” he said, his voice getting harder as he spoke. “We thought he was dead, but there were rumors he was on HYDRA's side during the collapse, never confirmed.”

So he was still out there. Daisy involuntarily shivered. _But he doesn’t know me_. She looked around the kitchen, at Daisy and Phil’s happy life. She really hoped Ward wouldn’t ruin it.

“Phil, I don’t know what--”

“You’ve been acting strangely, you don’t know where anything is around the house,” he interrupted, quiet but intense. It made Daisy nervous. “You’re _fine_ with the baby, but--”

She couldn’t help but feel a sting of hurt at that, staring at her hands on the table as she fidgeted. ‘ _Fine.’_ Adequate. Not _great_. Not even _good._ To be fair, Liddy wasn’t technically hers, not really. She couldn’t have the same bond with her as the woman who gave birth to her, who was actually present when that happened. Not after a couple days.

“You look at me like…” Phil trailed off, and Daisy looked up quickly. He looked so _sad._

“Coulson,” Daisy began, stopping herself when she saw a wry smile form on his face.

“It’s kind of a relief, you know?” He asked. Daisy frowned. Coulson’s eyes moved down to the table, like he couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. The small smile was still there though. “I was starting to wonder if you didn’t...want this, anymore,” he said, and Daisy felt like he had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head.

_Of course I-- Okay, not like-- I don’t--_

“But you’re just not my wife.”

It almost made her feel better, really. Not having to keep up the charade. _Almost_ being the operative word. Because even if she wasn’t lying to Coulson anymore, he still had no idea who she was.

Or where his wife was.

“Coulson, I can explain,” she said as she held up a hand, hoping maybe that would stop him from looking at her like that. So suspicious. He waited, crossing his arms over his chest. Daisy pursed her lips, trying to think about where she could possibly begin. “Okay, so I can’t _really_ explain,” she admitted. Coulson sighed, exasperated, and it felt so familiar she wanted to cry. “Technically I’m Daisy. Well, not technically, I _am_ Daisy,” she said.

“But you’re not the right Daisy,” he finished. Her brows furrowed.

“I’m not the _wrong_ Daisy, if that’s what you’re implying,” she said, then shook her head. “I mean, yeah, I guess here I’m the... the--the alternate Daisy. The one that doesn’t belong here.”

After watching her for a few seconds, Coulson’s face melted into one of cautious curiosity, which was not what she wanted, but a step in the right direction.

“How did you--”

“I have no clue,” she said honestly. “We walked into a room, there was this flash of light and bam, I’m here.” The Coulson looking at her then was one she knew well: kind of excited, but also worried. A bit confused but trying not to show it. Daisy, for the first time in almost three days, began to relax.

“‘We,’” he repeated, a little knit forming between his brows. “I was there?”

Daisy nodded. “My version of you, yeah. We were on a mission,” she elaborated, when he still looked confused.

“And over there, are we--”

“No,” she said, then she flinched, worried she was too quick to put that down. “We’re not--- you’re my--” Daisy paused, gathering her thoughts.

“We’re not married,” he surmised, and Daisy let out a breath.

“No, we’re not,” she said, looking at the table again. Just out of her line of vision, she could see him shift awkwardly.

“We’re not even together?” He asked, sounding surprised. Daisy swallowed, then shook her head. It was awkward, almost like she was turning him down. Which, after these past couple days and how much she missed her own Coulson (and somehow missed _this,_ despite never actually having it,) she wasn’t sure she would do, if she ever saw him again.

Venturing a look at his face, Daisy found Coulson to be surprisingly unreadable, staring off into some corner of the kitchen.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally asked, and Daisy looked up, confused. “How long have you been here?”

Daisy backtracked in her head. “Two days. Well, since yesterday morning,” she clarified. “And I would have told you, but I just-- it’s kind of a weird scenario. And I wasn’t sure if this was real, or some like, pipe dream, so I had no idea if telling you would make you, like, lock me up or freak out or something. So I figured I could play along for a bit, until--”

“Yesterday?” He repeated, interrupting her. She nodded, and could see him begin to do the math. “If you were uncomfortable you should have said something,” he said quietly, and Daisy was shocked to see _him_ looking embarrassed. “When I--that would have been an opportune time, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t--I’m sorry, I mean, _that_ was new but otherwise things weren’t much different I guess,” she said, wishing he would stop looking like that. But that just made him frown. Okay, so their relationship in her universe or whatever was complicated. “And I’m really sorry, for lying to you about who I was. That was kind of...shitty.” In the silence that followed, Daisy could hear the kitchen lock ticking away. It felt like the middle of the night, despite being hours away from it. She was tired.

“Does that mean my Daisy is...wherever you came from?” He asked eventually, and Daisy’s heart hurt. He was worried. Of course he was, his wife was missing and replaced with a jumpy lying version of herself.

“I don’t know,” she told him honestly, and Coulson just nodded, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I’m really, really sorry,” Daisy said, reaching across the table to grab his hand. Coulson automatically held it in his own before starting a bit, as if remembering who she _wasn’t_. “Sorry,” Daisy repeated.

“You should get some rest,” he said, not looking at her. Daisy frowned. “You can take the room, I’ll--”

“No, Coulson, it’s _your_ room, and besides we need to figure out--”

“We’ll talk in the morning.” He said curtly, and Daisy winced, but stood up. Arguing with Coulson, _really_ arguing was probably her least favorite thing ever. But arguing with husband Coulson was the _worst._ What was that thing couples always said? ‘Never go to bed angry?’ Well, how did that work when you weren’t even in a relationship?

“Coulson,” Daisy pleaded, annoyed at how pathetic she sounded. Maybe it was stress of it all, or the body of the Daisy she was inhabiting screaming ‘ _fix this,_ ’ but she desperately didn’t want to leave things as they were. “ _Phil._ ” It was manipulative, maybe. But it wasn’t as if she never called him that normally. Sometimes it was the only way to get him to listen.

Coulson took a deep breath before standing up, and Daisy walked into his arms. She sighed in relief as he enveloped her in a hug, and squeezed him tightly.

“This seems…” Coulson began, sounding a little thrown off.

“Normal,” Daisy finished. “This is normal.”


	3. Day 3

After no small amount of convincing, Daisy managed to persuade Phil to take the bedroom while she slept on the couch. The spare room for their foster had basic furniture but wasn’t quite complete, plus Daisy felt like sleeping in that room would be...intrusive. Considering what it represented for the two as a couple.

Hoping to make his morning a little less awful, she crept over to the kitchen as soon as she woke up. She wasn’t great at pancakes, but Daisy could make a mean French toast. The point was moot, however, as she found Phil sitting at the table, eating cereal.

“Heyyyy,” she said quietly as he looked over at her. “Still--still me,” she said, seeing the barest hint of hope on his face and hating that she had to squash it.

“Hi,” he replied, looking down at his breakfast. It seemed like the night in his own bed hadn’t done him any good, because the poor guy looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

 _That’ll happen when your wife is replaced with a bodysnatcher._  

Not wanting to intrude anymore than she had, Daisy turned to walk back to the living room.

“You don’t have to,” Phil said, tired. “You can stay. Here, I mean. In this room.”

_Not forever._

_If I even have a choice._

“Thanks,” she said, walking back over. He’d left the milk and cereal box on the counter, so she walked over to the cabinets to grab a bowl. She opened one. Cups. Daisy sighed, grabbing the knob on the one to the right.

“Over the sink,” Phil called from the table, and she winced. Grabbing a bowl from the correct cabinet she moved over to sit across from him at the table. She could feel Phil watching her as she put her breakfast together. It was odd for him, she was sure. Seeing unfamiliar body language and mannerisms from someone who otherwise looked so familiar. She knew the feeling, considering that was what had been weirding her out about him since her arrival. Except, of course, to him the person she resembled was much...closer than she was to her Coulson.

“Over there, I _kidnapped_ you?”

Daisy’s head shot up, and she saw Phil watching her with cautious curiosity.

Managing a small smile, she shook her head. “I think ‘detained for questioning’ would be the proper term.” Kidnapping or no, it was a strangely fond memory, barring the obvious nazi murderer exception. Phil nodded, probably very familiar with SHIELD’s interrogation practices.

“How did--” Daisy started, gesturing between the two of them.

“You were in a HYDRA laboratory, SHIELD got you out.” He said, and Daisy’s eyes widened.

“I was--that explains Austria,” she muttered, ignoring Phil’s raised eyebrow. Maybe she wasn’t exactly human over here after all? She felt a wave of nausea hit her stomach, but she pushed it down. “Did they…?” She thought about her mother, about Lincoln and Mike.

“They hadn’t started anything when SHIELD arrived,” he explained, watching her expression carefully.

Daisy nodded. She was probably still Inhuman then, just had never encountered the Diviner. So HYDRA had her, did that mean they crossed paths with Cal? Were he and Jiaying still out there? She wondered how many other Inhumans SHIELD had taken from HYDRA's grasp before frowning. “Wait, so I was a rescue mission?” That didn’t seem right. Sure, she was a different sort of ‘mission’ when _she_ and Coulson met, but the whole ‘damsel in distress’ image rubbed her the wrong way. She was happy to include _Prince Philip_ in her stories to the baby, but it’s not like Queen Daisy wasn’t just as, if not _more_ badass.

“Technically we both were. My cell was next to yours,” Phil said lightly, picking up his empty bowl and bringing it to the sink.

“Because of the GH serum.” _Of course,_ Daisy thought, watching his back as he rinsed out the dishes. _That’s why we (re)joined SHIELD at the same time._ Hydra must have tracked him down after he left. _And we happened to be cellmates._ It really made her wonder, sometimes.

“You mean the ‘magic potion?’” He asked, turning to face her, drying his hands on a towel. Daisy could feel her face turn a little red.

“Okay, well, it wasn’t exactly an inaccurate description,” she said, defending her creative choice. “And what’s a fairy tale without a magic lifesaving potion?”

Is that what her actual life was, a fairy tale? It was absurd, especially considering the fact that in _this_ world there was marriage and a baby and, for all intents and purposes, a happy ending. Whereas in her life, things were still, well, in the “adventure” category. Which was great, but a little downtime would have been nice.

Phil sat across from her again. “And in your world, I gave you the serum,” he said, and it took all Daisy had not to roll her eyes at his look of disapproval.

“You saved my life,” she corrected, and his eyes moved to the table.

“Of course I did,” Phil muttered.

Letting her eyes drift over to the (silent) baby monitor, Daisy wondered whether or not she should bring up the baby. _Ha._

“ _‘Melinda_ _Mackenzie_?’” She asked as a tiny smile formed on Phil’s face.

“Johnson,” he finished, leaning back in his chair. He looked as though he expected the question, and she thought it was fair to be curious.

“What was the deal there? You got first name, I got last and middle?”

Phil frowned slightly. “You chose all three,” he corrected.

“Of course I did,” Daisy sighed. How could she have expected any less? “May was on the mission in Austria?” She asked, and Phil nodded. It seemed that no matter what world they were in, Melinda May left an impression on her. _And Phil Coulson lets me have whatever I want._

“Family, names, I knew those were important to you,” Phil continued, shrugging. “So it seemed like a no-brainer. Obviously we were both happy with the result.” He smirked a little bit. “Mack and May were...embarrassed, but flattered, I think. Not that you let them have much say in the matter.”

Daisy laughed quietly, trying to imagine herself after pushing a baby out. Yeah, no one would be able to change her mind, she was sure.

“I never heard ‘Liddy’ before,” she admitted, and Phil nodded.

“That I did have a say in,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “‘Linda’ seemed like too big a name for a little girl, and I knew ‘Mellie’ would drive May crazy, so--”

“It’s cute,” Daisy reassured him. “Really cute.”

“Yes, _she_ is,” Phil said playfully, and Daisy rolled her eyes.

“I meant the _name,_ ” she said, choosing to forget that, okay a few times in the past couple days she had referred to the baby as an ‘it.’ In the beginning, mostly! She thought about the little munchkin, and how strange it was to look at her sometimes. All the time, really. “She looks like you,” she said, nodding her head toward the stairs. “I mean, I clearly got the dominant features there,” Daisy pointed out, “but when she smiles or looks at me sometimes it’s...super weird.”

Coulson fiddled with an abandoned baby food spoon in front of him, passing it between his hands.

“And you’re sure we’re not-- at _all_?”

Looking up from his hands, she saw him watch her carefully.

“No, I mean, at least not _yet?_ ” Daisy supposed that was most accurate. After all, they were a couple years behind in her world, who knew if things would change? Clearly things didn’t need to change _that much_ , right? “I don’t know if things will ever slow down enough for all this, though,” she admitted, looking at the kitchen around them. That, more than her and Coulson getting married and having a baby, seemed to be the most impossible part. The _settling down_ part. Not that it sounded like they had fully settled, but considering the fact that she was out on missions nearly every day and she and Coulson barely interacted outside of shop-talk these days--

 _Plus, all this is assuming I’ll make it back_ , she thought, before shaking her head and banishing that idea. She watched as Coulson set the little spoon down, intertwining his fingers in front of him

“You keep staring at my hand,” he said, snapping Daisy out of doing just that. “Is it the ring?”

She grimaced, looking at said ring, which was actually very nice. That was another thing: if they got married, would he even wear a ring? Would it be like, an attachment, included on every new model?

“No,” she answered, shaking her head profusely. _Stop weirding yourself out._ “Not the ring, the, uh, hand. Actually.” She stared at this Coulson’s confused face, wondering whether or not she should say something. This was a completely different universe, it’s not like she had gone back in time. So she could tell him, right? Plus, she wasn’t sure he believed her about the ring. “In my world you...lose it.”

“Oh.” Phil blinked heavily, processing this fact. “The _hand._ The whole hand?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Daisy said quickly. It was _kind of_ a big deal, and here she was just dropping it on him.

“I’ve gotten stranger news, believe me,” Phil said wryly, and she had to give him that one.

_‘Hey Coulson: superheroes exist, aliens exist, you’ve been brought back to life with alien DNA, your organization is filled with nazis, your wife has been replaced with a different version of herself from a different dimension, oh and in that dimension you have one hand.’_

She guessed that was just his life at that point, huh?

“How did it happen?” Phil asked, but Daisy hesitated. “ _How_?”

“You sort of grabbed this thing that started turning you to stone?” She began, “to save like, _everyone,_ it was super brave. I heard you dove onto the floor, very badass” she reassured him.

“And then?”

Daisy sighed. “So, to stop it from, you know, killing you, someone we know and care about _very much_ \--”

“Who?”

“...I’m not at liberty to say.”

“ _Daisy_ ,” Coulson said sternly, and Daisy suspected he used that voice on his wife fairly often.

_Shut up, butterflies._

“Mack. Mack chopped it off with an axe,” she blurted out, covering her mouth afterward.

“I see…” Coulson said, staring at his hand.

 _“Please_ don’t rename the baby,” Daisy pleaded.

***

Phil did not in fact wish to rename the baby, much to Daisy’s relief. Other Daisy was probably very attached to all of the names, and if she returned to find Liddy’s middle name changed to something else, she wouldn’t be very happy.

Despite wanting to keep up some semblance of normalcy, Daisy and Phil informed May that she would be taking that day off to continue prepare the house, which surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) May accepted.

Considering the mountain of work they were able to do the day before, the two of them instead decided to spend the afternoon trying to figure out how to get Daisy back.

“This house you were in,” Phil began, and Daisy tried to take him seriously considering he was barefoot, wearing a t-shirt and right in the middle of changing Liddy’s diaper. “Do you remember where it was?”

From her spot on the rocker, Daisy fiddled with the cuffs of her sweater. This Daisy had a lot of the same combat-ready clothes Daisy had in her own closet, but there was also a large supply of the comfiest clothes Daisy had ever worn. Moms knew how to _lounge_. (But also run around like mad women doing a billion things at once.)

“Savannah?” Daisy said, and saw Phil grimace. “Yeah, not exactly somewhere we can just drop by,” she agreed. “What are the odds May wouldn’t miss a quinjet for a day?” From the face he made, either May would totally notice or the dirty diaper he was disposing of was particularly gnarly.

“And you don’t know who the gifted individual was?” He asked in Baby Voice, wiggling Liddy’s feet.

“We never got a name,” Daisy admitted. She had avoided talking about the whole “inhuman” thing, since he never really followed up on the whole ‘super powers’ thing from her story. If this version of Daisy didn’t know about her powers, was it really her place to tell them? They seemed to have a good thing going on, and that would add a whole new chaotic element to their lives, just as they were taking a new big step.

“Well,” Coulson said, grunting a bit as he picked up the freshly-changed baby, “it’ll probably be best for us to do some research. I’ll ask, see what I can get sent over from the Playground without setting off too many alarms.”

“Well actually,” Daisy said casually, following him out of the room. “I can bypass the whole ‘asking’ thing if you help me out with a couple minor details.” Phil turned to face her, frowning.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for ‘Daisy’ to hack into private SHIELD files,” he said.

Daisy snorted. “Yeah okay,” she said, patting him on the shoulder as she went to go grab her laptop.

Behind her, Coulson sighed. “It was worth a try.”

 

“What was the wedding like?” Daisy asked once they had settled in the living room. She was multitasking, scanning through SHIELD’s databases for anything resembling ‘space-time continuum’ manipulation while finding out as much as she could about her alternate life. After all, if they figured this out, she would be back home soon and unable to ask any questions, right?

“Small,” Phil told her, his own laptop in front of him. He was going about things the _right_ way, searching through the level 10 files he had access to.

 _‘Levels,_ ’ she had scoffed, much to his confusion.

Feeling something tug at her knee, Daisy saw Liddy crawling on the floor next to the couch, making ‘up’ hands. “If I say yes, will you be chill?” Daisy asked, and the baby (of course) didn’t answer.

“Here,” Phil called, tossing a stuffed animal over to her. Daisy caught it, then handed it to Liddy who she pulled into her lap. With one hand holding the toy and the other gripping Daisy's shirt, the baby didn’t even bother with the laptop on the coffee table in front of her.

“Thanks,” Daisy called back, pulling aside a few files from the Index to look into more thoroughly. “I couldn’t tell from the photo, where did we go?”

“City hall,” Phil answered, and Daisy raised an eyebrow.

“Very small,” she agreed. “Who took the photo?” It was hard to tell where they were, but Daisy supposed a casual setting made sense. Phil was wearing a suit, of course, and Daisy’s dress was white, but not exactly the traditional wedding gown style. She wondered if she could track down a full-length photo somewhere.

“Trip,” Coulson answered, typing away. “It was just him, May, Andrew, Mack, Simm--everything okay?” Phil asked after catching a glimpse of her face.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Daisy said, her jaw tight. Of course, Trip was alive here. She never… _Focus,_ Daisy reminded herself. Not for the first time, she envied Other Daisy.

“Actually, that time was just for show,” Phil continued, perhaps sensing the nerve he had struck.

Daisy scoffed. “The courthouse wedding was for show?”

Coulson shrugged. “Technically we were married a week before,” he explained, his lips quirking up into a smile. “You assured me of the legality of it, but I guess I wanted to make sure. And I never turn down a chance to dress up,” he added, and Daisy laughed.

“No, you definitely don’t,” she agreed, looking at him fondly. Phil returned the look, his eyes softening and Daisy shook her head. “Can I ask you something? With your Daisy, when did you _know_?”

Phil seemed to consider the question, tilting the screen of his computer down. “Do you mean a specific moment or a feeling?” He asked, and to be honest Daisy wasn’t sure.

“Feeling,” she went with, considering the fact that they didn’t have a lot of overlap with moments. Feelings though? She had _plenty_ of those.

“I guess it was when I realized that she was the first person I thought about when I woke up in the morning,” he admitted, and the worry and longing in his voice made Daisy’s heart ache. “And she was the last person I thought of before I went to sleep.”

“ _Nice_ ,” she joked. Phil chuckled good-naturedly, but she could still see the sadness there. “Look, Phil, we’re going to make this right, okay? I don’t know if we have to track this person down, or recreate the circumstances, or, or click my heels three times and say ‘there’s no place like home,’ but we’ll fix this. I promise.”

Phil nodded, biting his lip and looking back at his laptop. Daisy was about to suggest getting the damn quinjet and figuring the rest out later when a noise from outside startled them both. “What--?” Daisy asked, leaning back to look out the window. “Did you--” From across the room, items on top of the mantle began shaking. Daisy jumped as something crashed behind her. All of the frames on the walls had started to shake as well, falling one by one.

In her arms, the baby started crying, and she felt someone grab her arm. “Come on!” Phil shouted, trying to pull her off the couch. “We need to--”

But Daisy knew what she needed to do. “This is for me,” she said quietly, nearly drowned out by the chaos of the how shaking around them.

“What?”

“I know what this--”

 _‘There’s no place like home.’ Really?_ Maybe the timing was a coincidence, but she didn’t have the time to think about that. In front of her, Phil was trying to catch her attention. _Poor guy,_ she thought, knowing he was frightened enough. She moved to hand him the baby, thinking she could stop all of it if those two got to safety, but a bright light enveloped all of them before she got the chance.

***

Daisy bolted upright, her head spinning. “Phil?” She called out, looking around her rapidly before she was even capable of registering her surroundings. She felt two hands settle on her shoulders, finally slowing down enough to see him sitting right in front of her. “Are you okay?” Daisy asked, realizing that the shaking had stopped. He was saying something, but her head felt like she was underwater. She looked down at the empty space between her arms and her stomach dropped.

“Where--where’s--” She began to look around frantically, more terrified than she’d been in days. Worse, she could feel the house around her begin to shake again.

“Daisy, listen to me,” Phil said, pulling her attention back to him. “You’re okay, everything’s okay, you need to calm down.”

“Where’s Liddy?” She demanded, not liking the wrinkle that formed in his brow. “Where--I just had her,” she said, trying to remember what had happened. Trying to calm down and get everything to stay still, she took another look around the room. Her eyes landed on a young man sitting in the corner. “Who the hell are you?”

It was then that Daisy noticed she wasn’t in the house anymore. In _their_ house. Turning to look through the doorway behind her, she recognized the room.

 _I’m back,_ she realized, looking at the man kneeling in front of her. He was worried, just like she had last seen Phil, but he was _her_ Coulson. Tired, professional, shoe-wearing Coulson. She looked back at the boy in the corner. “You did that?” Daisy asked, finally catching her breath.

She was back.

Tentatively, he nodded. He didn’t look older than herself, but something about him seemed... _more._ “That was real,” she clarified, and after a few beats he nodded again. “They’re okay?” Much to her relief, Daisy got another nod, this one much sooner. Turning back to Coulson, who was clearly confused and deeply concerned, Daisy smiled tiredly. “What did I miss?”


	4. Epilogue

Sitting on her bed, Daisy heard a knock on the door of her bunk. “Come in,” she called, uncrossing her legs and sitting upright when Coulson walked in.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and she knew it wasn’t exactly a question.

“Sure,” she responded, and he shut the door behind him. Daisy had been expecting this, only surprised that it had taken him as long as it did. She’d been sort of dodging him for a couple days since they returned, and while some of it could be covered up with resting after her ordeal and pure busy-ness, it must have become obvious what was happening.

To be fair, Daisy had no idea how off-putting it would be to return to her own life so quickly, after spending almost three days in an alternate dimension. _Where I was a couple years older. And a mom. And married to Coulson._ So yes, being around him was a bit uncomfortable at the moment. Daisy was worried she was going to slip up, or look at him funny or misinterpret something he did or said, especially considering she spent two full days with a Coulson who was in love with ‘her’ before the truth came out.

Plus, she wasn’t just visiting over there. She spent _days_ in someone else’s body. With other emotions and attachments floating around. At this point, Daisy wasn’t even sure how she felt about her Coulson. Had her own feelings been warped from her time spent with Phil? Regardless, if it was her feelings or other Daisy’s, it was hard to talk to Coulson now, suddenly looking at her in a completely different light. Now she knew how Phil must have felt: confused and a bit hurt by the change in behavior. _Except he hasn't actually changed._  So Daisy needed to get all of that sorted out.

And she missed the baby. A lot. She had no idea how to even begin explaining that.

“Evan’s settling in,” she commented, referring to their latest ‘guest’ at the Playground. Between the two of them--he was _painfully_ shy-- they’d managed to drum up an accurate-ish representation of what they knew about his powers for the Index, although there was still a lot of information to process. They didn’t talk about the details of her particular adventure, and Daisy appreciated that.

“How long?” Coulson asked gently, sitting at her desk. Daisy didn’t say anything. “You were out over here for an hour. How long were _you_ gone for?”

“Is this for my file, or--?”

“ _Daisy,_ ” Coulson quietly insisted, and she felt a chill climb up her spine at the familiar tone.

 _That means something else here,_ she reminded herself.  

“Almost three days,” Daisy answered, catching his worried stare. “Coulson, it’s fine. I’m not like Simmons, I wasn’t fighting for my life for months, I just…” _Was living a different one._ “I just need to re-adjust.”

Coulson nodded, leaning forward on his elbows. His hands, real and manmade, locked together. She tried not to look at the ring finger.

“Who’s Liddy?” He asked, and hearing the name come from his mouth, with zero recognition, was too much for her. Worse than the fact that he no longer looked at her with open love and adoration, worse than the fact that her body felt all out of whack, even worse than the fact that she kept missing the clean baby smell she had basically been steeped in for three days straight. That name coming from his lips, with that tone, _hurt._  

“She’s my kid, Coulson,” she blurted out. “ _Was_ my kid. Or, her kid. Over--I had a baby when I was in that...there.”

Coulson’s eyes widened in shock. “You _had--_ ”

“Not like, _right then and there_ ,” she corrected quickly, realizing how it sounded.

 _I would need a lot more than a couple days to get over that_.

“Oh,” Coulson said awkwardly, and Daisy rested her face in her hands. This was going about as smoothly as she’d predicted. But hey, if there was one thing she learned over there, besides the fact that babies produced more poop for their body weight than any other human and under no circumstances were you to start a game of peekaboo if you didn’t have three hours to spare, it was that being honest was sometimes the best way to deal with these things. And the sooner the better.

Daisy felt the bed dip next to her, and an arm tentatively wrap around her shoulders. “Shit,” she muttered, caught between wanting to bolt and wanting to--well. Finish what was started on that couch, for one. _Those are just some leftover Phil Butterflies,_ she convinced herself. _They’ll go away._ They were just remnants of the emotions she’d felt while over there, pieces of Other Daisy stuck in her system.

“That must be hard,” Coulson said, and she nodded.

“I mean, I know she wasn’t _mine,_ but she was--” She looked at him, saw his stupid sad face and could feel her eyes well up. “She was _really cute,_ Coulson,” Daisy whined, slumping forward, defeated.

“I’m sure she was,” Coulson said, and if he was amused by her ridiculous emotional display he didn’t sound it.

“She had these tiny socks, and a--a _duck towel_.” It felt good to let it out, Daisy realized. It was a strange, new kind of mourning. Like when she had left Cal, but also so very different.

“I used to have one of those,” Coulson remarked, rubbing a hand between her shoulder blades.

“I know, and ugh, she would wear it after a bath and it was just--” she threw her hands up in the air. “And now it’s like she doesn’t exist. She _doesn’t_ exist, at least not here,” Daisy lamented. “And I don’t know if it’s _me_ missing her, or I just haven’t shaken what _that_ Daisy was feeling. But it’s just weird to think that she’s totally gone.”

She deeply hoped that Evan was right, and that Phil and Liddy were having a very happy reunion with their Daisy, who knew where the bowls were and could look at Phil the way he wanted and would be ecstatic to learn their good news.

 _And hopefully not be too upset about the chaos in the living room._ It wasn’t Evan being particularly fond of _the Wizard of Oz_ that brought her back, she had found out, but his being able to track _her_ down using her powers as some kind of homing beacon. They were still figuring it out.

“Evan said that the...place you were in had a lot of counterparts over here?” Coulson asked, and Daisy nodded. “If you think it would help, we can try to track down the baby’s father, see if there’s some version of her here? Give you some peace of mind?” He asked, and Daisy merely blinked. “That would probably be weirder, wouldn’t it? Sorry,” Coulson said, backtracking. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, no,” Daisy objected, turning to face him more fully. “It’s a nice suggestion Coulson, but it just wouldn’t work. In this situation.” She watched him awkwardly, seeing the realization begin to dawn on him.

“You _knew_ him,” he surmised, his eyes widening. Daisy nodded. “Wow,” Coulson said, shaking his head. “That must be weird.”

Daisy nodded again. “Yeah, really weird,” she agreed, her voice a little higher than usual. And yet...“But also not?” Coulson looked at her curiously. “It’s not totally outside the realm of possibilities,” she elaborated, “at least not to me.”  Daisy may have been confused, but she wasn’t ready to rule anything out, or dismiss the idea that her feelings for Coulson were hers. After all, after everything they’d been through, it made sense in a way.

“Oh,” Coulson said, an unreadable look on his face.

 _Quit while you’re ahead, Daisy_.

“Did you tell him? Who you were?” Phil asked, throwing her for a bit of a loop.

“That I was an alternate version of his wife from a different reality?” Daisy asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yes. Yes I did. Well, he figured it out on the second night, but I’m glad--”

“You went _two days_ \--”

“I know, I know,” Daisy groaned, leaning back against the wall behind her bed. “I should have said something earlier, but it was complicated, and I wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t a dream. Plus we had this whole fostering situation happening and I didn’t know what had happened to _his_ Daisy, so I didn’t want to throw his world into more chaos than was already going on.” She sighed, thunking the back of her head against the wall lightly. “Apart from the total insanity of it, it was kind of nice though,” Daisy admitted. “We had a pretty house, and May basically let us have a long weekend, which was probably the most unbelievable part,” she joked. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Sounds nice,” Coulson agreed, almost wistful? Daisy wondered how badly he needed a vacation, thinking of how relaxed Other Phil had been. Sure, he was tired from working and taking care of a one-year-old, but he had none of the heaviness Coulson seemed to have sitting on his shoulders. “But,” he continued, and Daisy tilted her head. “I’m glad you came back.”

Daisy smiled. “Me too. Thanks for being there when I woke up,” she said, and Coulson shook his head.

“Of course I was, I wasn’t about to just leave you there,” he said emphatically. “You were so panicked, I would have felt terrible if you were looking for me and I was--” Coulson frowned. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if he was trying to pin down the right words.

“Coulson?” Daisy asked, trying to catch his attention.

“You were looking for me when you woke up,” Coulson said, and Daisy felt like her heart had begun to beat in her throat.

“You were with me before I got knocked out,” she tried to explain, her mouth suddenly dry.

“You called me Phil,” he said, getting that look in his eye. Like he had just had a breakthrough questioning a suspect.

“I call you Phil all the time,” Daisy objected. “Sometimes.”

“The first thing you did was ask _me_ where--” Coulson broke off, looking like he had malfunctioned somehow.

“That was a general question!”

Phil sat back, leaning against the wall as well. He stared straight ahead.

“In this place, you and I were…”

“Yes.”

“ _I_ was your--”

“Yup.”

“We had--”

“ _Frequently_ , apparently.”

“I was going to say ‘we had _a kid,’_ ” Coulson hissed, and Daisy held up her hands defensively.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, blowing out a breath.

Coulson was silent, and if there had been an analog clock in her room, Daisy assumed they would hear it ticking.

“While you were there,” he said eventually, “you didn’t... _we_ didn’t…”

“ _No_ ,” Daisy said, aghast. “Of course not.” Phil nodded stiffly. “I’m not a homewrecker, Coulson.”

“What?” His head swiveled to look at her, deeply perturbed.

“He...you... _Him-you_ was married _._ To me, _sort of,_ but not really.” Daisy shrugged. “Plus once he figured out it was me, it was a very professional partnership,” she added.

Coulson didn’t answer, staring at his hands. “I would apologize for making it weird but technically that was you,” Daisy said quietly, nudging him. “I mean, you _asked_.”

“What changed?” Coulson asked, not looking at her.

“Like, happened differently? Let’s see..." Daisy recounted the 'highlights,' from him leaving SHIELD to their _purely-coincidental_  joint capture by HYDRA. “So we both joined up-- _again_ in your case, and the rest is alternate history, I guess.”

“But we were-- the same, otherwise,” Coulson asked and Daisy tilted her head.

“I guess? I mean, I wasn’t Inhuman--well, my powers never got activated. Shit, I never got to tell Phil about that,” she muttered. Maybe it was best for Daisy to be in the dark, but she had a feeling that she would like to at least know. That way she could actually have a _choice_ in the matter. And they could plan ahead. “Oh God, what if Liddy’s Inhuman too?” It was genetic, right? That means she had a 50/50 chance. Maybe less, since Daisy was technically half.

Looking over at Coulson, she saw the same shell-shocked look on his face he’d had since the breakthrough. “Hey, do you need a drink or a walk or something?”

“I--yeah,” Coulson said, standing up from her bed. “I’ll be--” he gestured at the door vaguely before walking out of the room.

“Coulson? Hey, Coulson?” Daisy called, slightly alarmed. She wasn’t exactly expecting him to take it _well,_ but maybe not so dramatic? “ _And_ he’s gone.”

 

Daisy pulled her laptop out and had been working for a little under half an hour when Coulson returned, looking frazzled.

“Everything okay buddy?” Daisy asked, closing her laptop and setting it aside.

“I’m sorry,” Coulson said, closing the door behind him. “I probably should have...handled that. Better.”

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t my weirdest experience of the week.”

Phil made some weird little struggling noise in the back of his throat.

“Do you have any questions?” Daisy asked, remarkably chill considering her predicament. Coulson tilted his head to the side, like he was considering it.

“Where did ‘Liddy’ come from?”

“Wow we’re just diving right in, aren't we,” Daisy joked. Coulson gave her a look, and she backed down. “Melinda.”

Coulson nodded, leaning back against the door. “Which one of us…?”

“Me,” Daisy said.

“And over there, she and Andrew are…”

“Happy, I think,” Daisy answered, not quite sure herself. “They were at our wedding. Plus, no Inhuman confrontations, no Lash.”

Coulson frowned, watching her thoughtfully. “Your parents?”

“Unclear. You know, I gotta say I thought your questions were going to be more focused on the whole ‘married’ thing?” She narrowed her eyes a bit at him, not _upset_ about it, but definitely taken aback. Granted, she was curious about all those things too, but realized at a point it could get to be too much.

“Right, sorry,” Coulson said, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Earlier, you said it wasn’t entirely impossible, or something,” he began, and Daisy sat up straighter. “What did you mean by that?”

“...I think that’s pretty straightforward,” she said, only slightly dodging the question. Daisy sighed. “I only meant, I’m not exactly the kind of person to rule anything out. I’m not going to count on it or anything, or think that somehow within the next two years you and I are suddenly going to have that life.” She threw her hands up. “I don’t know, it just made me think about things differently, I guess. But I don’t expect knowing all that to change how you feel about me,” she said, looking over at him. “...I mean, does it? Never mind, you don’t have to answer that.”

Coulson watched his feet intently, before crossing the room and sitting next to her. “No,” he said.

 _That’s to be expected,_ Daisy thought, trying not to be too disappointed. Obviously the whole thing had freaked him out.

“Okay then,” Daisy said, with exaggerated breeziness. “Crisis over.”

“The way I feel about you,” Coulson said, finally turning to look at her, “is complicated. Always has been. _Still_ is. That hasn’t changed.”

Daisy nodded, not wanting to open her mouth and interrupt in case he wasn’t done. She really hoped he wasn’t done.

“But, I don’t know exactly _what_ I feel,” he admitted, his eyes looking slightly pained. “And I don’t want to take how I feel about _this_ and let it change the way I felt before. That doesn’t seem fair to you.”

Daisy sighed, melting at the ridiculous sweetness of the guy in front of her. He may have been wearing a rumpled dress shirt and was completely unsure of what he wanted, but the butterflies she had were definitely all him.

“I care about you, very much,” Coulson said, grabbing her hand earnestly. “You have to know that. I like spending time with you, and working with you, and sometimes,” he shook his head, as if baffled by the words coming out of his own mouth. Words that sounded so familiar, Daisy could feel the butterflies kick into overdrive: “The first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning is when I’m going to see you.”

Daisy could feel the smile begin to form on her face, but tried to rein it in a bit. She didn’t want to _give anything away,_  after all. Because even if it’s a happy ending, no one likes it when you spoil the end of a story.

Holding his hand in both of hers, she shook it once, decidedly. “I think we can work with that, Phil.”


End file.
